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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931561">After You.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranGrayson/pseuds/FranGrayson'>FranGrayson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>I Care A Lot (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>After Marla, F/F, Lesbian Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranGrayson/pseuds/FranGrayson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Life After Marla's Death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fran/Marla Grayson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One year after Marla's death, Fran thinks about how life was and how it is today.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After You.</p>
<p>Fran | Marla Grayson</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My cheeks are aching from forcing that smile for so long!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What should we do now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whatever the fuck we want.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Bitch!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, listen. I don't have time-”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>1 year later…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I will probably never forget the saddest day of my life. Filled with horror and misery. </p>
<p>The day Marla died. </p>
<p>To this day, I can still feel her body weaken in my arms. The blood seeping through my clothes. I can still see her eyes slowly close. </p>
<p>It’s been a year and I still haven’t managed to stop thinking about it. There hasn’t been a night that I’ve slept completely. I wake up afraid and sweaty, hoping that Marla would be there, laying beside me to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay. </p>
<p>But she’s gone. She’s gone forever. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I decide to finally get up. I’m glad I’ll be taking the day off today. </p>
<p>When Marla passed, I knew that no one else would be able to take her place. But I knew I had to. It was what she wanted and I couldn’t let the business she worked so hard on die down. Of course I had to adjust to doing more than I normally did while working with her. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“Fran, when I die, I want you to take over Grayson Guardianships. There’s no one I trust more than you.” </p>
<p>“Mar, baby, are you crazy?! You aren’t dying… and you know I’ll mess all your hard work up. I’m not as good as you.” </p>
<p>Marla released a chuckle.</p>
<p>“I mean you never know… I can die in any second. And I know you can take care of our business. We both worked so hard on it!” </p>
<p>“I don’t know Mar…” </p>
<p>“I trust you baby. Only you.” </p>
<p>I then fell asleep in Marla’s arms. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>I sit on the porch of our house as I take a sip of my coffee. Marla always said she wanted a small home. She always said that just because we had a ton of money didn’t mean we should own a mansion. And I agreed. </p>
<p>My heart aches of the thought. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“You know Fran, we should buy a small home. I mean it’s just the two of us.” </p>
<p>“I totally agree baby.”</p>
<p>“You know, we should have a separate room for possible kids in the future!”</p>
<p>I bust out laughing. </p>
<p>“You were serious about that the other day.”</p>
<p>“Yeah I was. But I think we should adopt.” </p>
<p>“I agree on that one too.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>I walk back inside the silent house, my feet touching the cold floor. It was still weird not hearing Marla’s voice. She would normally be talking with herself about her work or she’d sit out with me. She always had time for me, even on the busiest days. </p>
<p>And we hardly ever argued. If we did it would be for minor reasons. There were nights Marla would cry and ask herself what she would do if I left her alone. Never in my life have I thought of leaving her. As much as I knew it was risky and that I could get physically hurt, I didn't care because as long as I had her, I would always be there. </p>
<p>I sit down and turn on the TV, just to see a news reporter talk about Marla’s death. It was hard for me to rewatch her interview. Hard to see her smiling face and that beautiful body. </p>
<p>I shut it off after a while, not being able to hold back the tears. I curl up into a ball on the couch we used to sit on and talk for hours. I found myself not being able to move. It was hard to breath. I lay down and let my eyes rest. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>I wake up after an hour, having trouble adjusting to the bright sunlight, entering through the window. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror seeing that my eyes were all puffy and red, which was nothing new to me. I undress myself and turn on the hot, steamy water. I walk into the shower, my eyes beginning to tear up once more. </p>
<p>I remember that afternoon when some of Roman’s men came in and attacked me. I couldn’t stop thinking about Marla’s safety. I thought the both of us were dead. But then she came and saved me. She cleaned the blood off my skin. And we showered together, holding each other, knowing things would be okay one day. </p>
<p>And now I’m standing here, in the quiet, Marla’s footsteps nowhere to be heard. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once I am done, I change into some clothes. I wore one of Marla’s black dresses. Her closet was left the same. All her clothes were organized as how she left it. I slid on my boots and then I made my way to the cemetery where Marla’s body was buried. </p>
<p>I exited out of our car, I then made my way to the spot. I dropped to my knees as I began to sob. The flowers in my arms fall onto the ground. The picture I had set down of us was still there. There were a few leaves and branches laying around. I cleaned up the spot as I began to speak to her. It’s been a while since I’ve visited. </p>
<p>“Mar. It’s been a year since you left me. You don’t know how hard it’s been…” sobs escape my lips as I try my best to speak. </p>
<p>“I promise I’m making sure everything is going smoothly with your business. I know that if you were here you’d probably remind me that it's ours but I still believe you could have done it all without me…”</p>
<p>“I wish I could have stopped him Mar…” </p>
<p>“Nothing is the same anymore. I wake up in an empty bed. I cry myself to sleep. I look up at work and you’re not sitting in the spot you used to sit in. Everything has changed. And I still miss you. I’ll always miss you Marla.” </p>
<p>I finally get the courage to get up. I kiss the picture of us and set it back down. I touch the stone with her name on it. I make sure the flowers are set down well. I know she always preferred me being there instead of bringing her flowers but I still did it occasionally. I wish I did it more when she was here. She was appreciative. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I turn around and get inside my car. I drive back home, my eyes still filled up with tears. I hit the steering wheel in pain, knowing I’ll never be able to bring back my wife.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Alone.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fran's life at work. Fran begins to think about her importance.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*a few suicidal thoughts at the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After You</p><p>Alone. </p><p>Fran | Marla </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It's been a month since Fran has visited Marla’s gravesite. And of course, the sadness hasn’t left. And as much as Fran wanted to stay at home, she was now sitting at her desk, reading over some important papers. </p><p> </p><p>Her assistant, Sandra, walks in and stands in front of Fran. “How are you feeling?” </p><p> </p><p>Frances then looks up at her with annoyed eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you get tired of asking me that? For the past year, I’ve been suffering. And that won’t change today or tomorrow or the day after that,” the curly head girl spat. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she slowly walked out of the room, leaving Fran and her emotions alone. </p><p> </p><p>Fran looks up at the spot where Marla used to sit when they worked together. It was a white leather couch that Marla had chosen for her wife’s office. She used to sit on it, back leaning on the right armrest, her legs extended on the rest of the couch as she did her work. And now the spot is empty. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fran looks up as she just finished signing a few papers. “She's so beautiful…” she thought to herself.  She holds her head with her hands as she stares at her wife as she reads through her notes.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Fran, I can feel you staring at me.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fran stays silent, her face turning red with embarrassment. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Fran tries to focus on her next task but finds that Marla is now a bit of a distraction. She glances at her every few seconds.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Fran.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Mar.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What’s wrong? What are you thinking?”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Nothing. I just think you’re beautiful.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Her wife lets out a chuckle. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I feel the same way about you, baby.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I just like being able to look up and see you in front of me. I’ll never get tired of the sight.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Haha! I love you so much, Fran!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Marla then sets her notebook on the coffee table. She gets up and sits on her wife’s desk, facing her.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Let me take you out tonight.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Fran grabbed her bag and walked out of the establishment. She decided to go out to eat since it’s been a while since she's eaten somewhere else other than her house or her office. She walks out in the sun, Marla’s sunglasses protecting her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>She makes it to an old place she and Marla used to eat at. She orders something small, not having an appetite. Again, it was something normal to her. There would be days that she’d overeat, and ones where she would barely eat. And she honestly didn’t care. </p><p> </p><p>Once she finishes eating alone, she leaves a tip and walks out, heading back to the office to finish a few things, to then attend a meeting. </p><p> </p><p>She was extremely tired but she knew that if she skipped the meeting, it would probably affect the business and it would make them lose money. Of course, she didn’t want Grayson Guardianships to have a bad name. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Once Frances gets back home, she sets her things down on the couch and makes her way to the bathroom. She removes her clothes, tossing it in the stack that’s in the corner. She takes a quick shower, changes into some shorts and a t-shirt. </p><p> </p><p>She decides to cook pasta since it’s been a while since she’s made herself something. She measures the pasta and then dumps it in the boiling water. Then she notices something.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit.” </p><p> </p><p>She sees that she had measured enough pasta for her and Marla. She decides not to touch it. She smiles as she remembers the time the blond showed her how to make her favorite pasta. Fran knew a few things but cooking wasn’t one of them. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Franny, you gotta help me cut these vegetables.”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Franny?” Frances questioned the new nickname.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yes, it's my nickname for you, silly! Now hurry and come help me. The sauce is almost ready and if we don’t hurry it's gonna burn!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Frances laughs at her girlfriend’s concern. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They quickly finish, they add in the vegetables, Marla continues to show her girlfriend how to season the pasta, and then it’s done.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “This shit tastes really good!” Fran said as they both ate at the table. “I’ll make sure to make this every once in a while.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Oh baby, you don’t have to pamper me,” Marla says as her lips raise into a smile.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I know I don’t have to but I want to.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They smile at each other and then they share a quick, soft kiss.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Once Fran is done eating, she saves the leftovers in a Tupperware, knowing that she probably won't eat it but she still shoves it in the fridge. She spots the dishes that are built up in the sink. She sighs and begins to wash them knowing that it was progress. </p><p> </p><p>Ever since Marla passed, Fran has had a difficult time being able to complete work at home. The laundry is hardly ever finished, the dishes build up into a tower, papers are left on the floor, and dust is visible on the blinds. </p><p> </p><p>She could always hire a maid but she also hates having people around. It bothers her when people try talking to her. Her staff find it hard to communicate with her. Some would say that they’ve had anxiety walking up to her office and asking her a simple question. It’s something they’ve gotten used to throughout the year. </p><p> </p><p>Once she’s done she brushes her teeth, Marla’s toothbrush still laying beside hers. The bristles were dry and untouched. She takes a look at her face in the mirror, noticing that her face has gotten boney. Her eyes were, of course, a bit puffy and red from earlier. She chuckles at the sight. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re pathetic, Frances. You shouldn’t even be here anymore. It should have been you on that concrete with that bullet in your chest. You weren’t worth anything back then and you’re sure as hell not worth anything now.” </p><p> </p><p>She turns off the lights and calls it a night. She closes her eyes, and sleeps alone once more, hoping that magically, she wouldn’t wake up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. No More Pain.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fran notices that the pain will always follow her. Also, we revisit one of Frances' favorite nights with her wife (pineapple chunks!).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Self-harm around the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After You. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No More Pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fran | Marla </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, listen. I don’t have time-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bam. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Marla! No! Security!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Help! Help!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Someone call help! Marla? Baby, you’re gonna be fine. No, no, no. Look at me, baby. Look at me. Look at me. Listen to me. You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. Marla? Help. Help! Marla. No, Marla!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, no, no, no, n-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fran’s body jerked up as she panted, trying to gain her breath back. Her face dripped with sweat, her eyes wide open, and her heart almost beating out of her chest. She turns on the small lamp beside her bed and she grabs her special rag for nights she wakes up like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slides it over her forehead, removing the sweat. She then sits the small piece of cloth beside her and she takes a sip of water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fran found this totally normal now. Of course, there were a few nights she would sleep perfectly fine but it was only when she was extremely tired from work. And tonight wasn’t one of those nights. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She found it useless trying to go back to sleep so she decides to get up and get ready. She wears one of Marla’s yellow suits, the color being one of her favorite’s on Marla. She brushes through her curls and sprays a bit of Marla’s favorite perfume on herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As weird as it sounds, Fran does these little things to feel as if Marla is still here with her. As hard as she finds it to look up and not see her, she likes to believe that her wife is standing behind her, making sure she's safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grabs a container of her and Marla’s favorite fruit, pineapple, and she walks out with her bag in her other hand. She hops in the car and then proceeds to make her way to work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she’s arrived, she sees everyone scatter back to their places. She rolls her eyes and slams the door of her office, causing Sandra’s papers to fly off of her desk. She sets her stuff down and waits for her assistant to enter the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opens and the brunette stands in front of Frances’ desk. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, she's interrupted by her boss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t even dare ask that stupid question this morning. Remember the words I said to you yesterday,” her boss said in a harsh manner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her assistant then proceeds to read out Fran’s schedule for the day and then leaves a few copies. She quickly walks out and closes the door, trying her best not to make noise. She spins in her chair for a few minutes and then looks up at the huge painting above her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was one of Marla’s expensive gifts to her. She remembers setting up her office and out of the blue, a few men walked in with the huge frame. Marla then proceeded to tell them where to hang it as she stared at her wife’s clueless face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hang it right there, Eric. Make sure it's set straight!” the tall woman pointed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes ma’am,” Eric and his friend then continued with their job.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s that, baby?” Frances asked her wife as they both stared at the men.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The guys then unwrapped the frame, revealing a well-painted picture of Frances. Fran’s eyes then went wide as she gasped. Marla lets out a laugh, being proud of herself for making her wife happy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Baby! Thank you so much! I look so hot..” Fran said as she ran her fingers over the delicate artwork. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m glad I was able to make you smile, Franny.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t need to give me a gift to make me smile. You being here is enough to make me smile.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They share a soft, passionate kiss. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frances then laughs at herself, thinking about the memory. “So stupid,” she whispered to herself. She then spins back and opens up the drawer of her desk. The first thing she sees is the container of painkillers she usually takes whenever she has a headache. She takes one out but then decides to take two, hoping it'll wipe away the small headache. She swallows them and then she begins to eat her sweet pineapple chunks as she focuses on her work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Frances is laying in bed, reading a book as she waits for Marla to come back from the kitchen. Her girlfriend finally entered, but with a pineapple in her hand. Fran then sets down her book and giggles at Marla. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Babe, why do you have a pineapple? I thought you were gonna bring popcorn…” the curly head girl questioned. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Marla’s eyes looked left and right, making Fran giggle. Marla then crisscrosses beside her girlfriend, putting the full pineapple in between them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I wanna show you something!” Marla said as she threw her arms up of excitement, causing her hoodie to rise up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay..?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, so you can open a pineapple without using a knife! Do you know how?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You just smash it on the ground, pick up the pieces, and tada!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No silly!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Marla then proceeds to show her girlfriend how to prop the fruit open. Frances laughs as to how her girlfriend’s fingers are constantly digging into the ‘butt plug’ of the pineapple. Once she opens it, they share the tiny chunks of fruit as Marla continues to explain more about the fruit, her girlfriend making sure to pay attention to every word that left her mouth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Pina!” shouted Marla as she continued to chew the tiny pieces of her favorite fruit. Frances laughed and smiled with happiness, hoping that moments like these would never end. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Fran is done packing up her bag, she makes her way toward her door but not before tripping, causing the vase of dead flowers to fall, causing it to shatter completely. Some of the sharp pieces of glass touch her arm, causing it to have minor cuts. She looks at her arms and then back to the glass. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It shouldn’t hurt..”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She grabs the sharpest piece and then slowly slides it on her wrist, seeing the blood come out. She felt a little sting, but she didn’t notice. All she could think about was the pain she’s gone through the last year. She couldn’t even feel it anymore and she knew that the discomfort would never leave her because she would always miss her wife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew she had no purpose of being here anymore. Someone else could take over the business. She had no reason to be alive. Her parents both passed away when she was young, she had no pets, kids, or other family members. She was all by herself just like she was a few years back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And her life felt complete when she met Marla. They hit off really well as friends and one thing leads to another. Marla opened tons of doors for Frances. She helped her gain back her happiness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when Marla passed away, she took Fran’s happiness with her, leaving Fran with dark thoughts and emotions. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Petals and Vases.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fran hears the voices again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>* Self-harm is mentioned and done throughout the chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After You.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Petals and Vases </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fran | Marla. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Fran unlocks the door of her house and walks in. She had just come back from work and visiting Marla. She made sure to take her some flowers. This time she took some yellow ones, not knowing the name of the plant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She also made sure to keep her updated on work and life outside of it. Fran knew her wife could see her from above, but she still liked to keep her up to date. And she always made sure to leave the dark parts out, not wanting to think of how much of a fuck up she is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since last week’s incident in the office, Frances’ negative thoughts haven’t left her mind. There would be times that she would hear a scary voice telling her to hurt herself. Her mind would find its way to replay her slicing her wrist. The scar would be visible as she wrote her notes and details since her sleeves would pull themselves up just a tad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The morning after, her assistant had asked Frances if she was okay since she could see a bit of blood dripping down her arm and her vase was no longer visible, only the dead, dried-up petals were seen on the floor. Of course, Fran dismissed her instead of answering her question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fran had just come back from picking up lunch from down the street. But before she returned, she passed by a young lady’s flower shop. She bought some yellow tulips, not knowing the name, and a ripe pineapple since the lady sold fruit as well. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She walks into her girlfriend’s office, not even bothering to knock. Marla turns around and smiles at her girlfriend’s presence. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I bought you something Mar!” She hands Marla the bag of lunch and the beautiful flowers. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh! You know I don’t like it when people buy me flowers! Don’t get me wrong, I love them but they’re gonna be dead in a few days…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, These flowers might die but my love for you will never!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Marla busts out laughing, her cheeks turning red from her loved one’s cheesiness. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re so cheesy! What’s behind you back?” she says, noticing that Fran’s arm has been behind her back for a while.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Frances pulls her arm from behind, revealing a pineapple, or “pina” as her girlfriend would say. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought we could share this later,” Fran says with a smile as she sees how much Mar’s face has glowed up. Marla quickly grabs Fran’s face and their lips collide, causing both of them to get butterflies in their stomach. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you so much, Franny!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The dishes in the sink were once again building up and Fran had no other choice but to wash them knowing that they wouldn’t wash themselves. She wets and then soaps them up. At final she washes the spoons and knives. She gets to the sharpest one and slides it on the sponge. The blade rips through the old sponge, causing it to cut Fran’s palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She drops the object as she stares at her hand, the sound of the running water in the background. She stands there for a few minutes, her facial expression being blank the whole time.  The voices in her head then began speaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You deserve it.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You’re nothing without her. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You’re useless. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Just end it all. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>You are alone. </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The curly head girl shakes her head, the voices finally disappearing. She rinses her hand and she walks into her room and grabs the first aid kit that was located under the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She opens it and grabs some gauze and wraps it around her arm with speed. Her legs begin to shake as she begins to panic. She knows she won't lose an arm but her head is beginning to fill up with thoughts from work, Marla, and of course, the voices she hated the most.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything began to stress her out. Her headache grew by the minute and she could feel her shoulders tense up. She quickly runs to the kitchen, making sure not to trip. She opens the cabinet, grabbing the painkillers. This time she takes three and she swallows them without water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She noticed that those were the last 3 she had in the box. She throws the box away and goes back into bed. She knows that the painkillers would knock her out quickly so she knew she wouldn’t have any nightmares tonight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of this was hard for her. She was never one to self-harm. Even after her parent’s passed, she always tried her best to keep her head up. And now it's different. She can’t even bring herself to focus on work at times. She thought she and Marla would grow extremely old, have children and a few pets, and then pass down the business to one of their children, but that dream is dead now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knows she’s been losing weight at a fast and dangerous rate. And she didn’t care. Nobody sees it, not even herself. She thought that it didn’t matter anymore because maybe it was almost her time to die. This grief was different. And it sure as hell isn’t good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because there’s no such thing as good grief. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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